CHAPTER III.
THE PEDDLER AND THE LAWYER'S HALF Just before leaving Gridley, Greg Holmes had bought a copy of the "Blade" from a newsboy.
Three miles out, the chums enjoyed their first halt.
"Ten minutes' rest under this tree," Dick announced, for already the August morning sun was beating down upon them.
Greg drew out his copy of the newspaper, unfolding it.
"Say!" he yelled suddenly.
"Stop that," commanded Tom Reade, "or you'll make the horse run away and wreck our outfit." "But this paper says-----" "Stop it," ordered Tom with a scowl.

"I know what you're going to do.

You'll read us some exciting stuff, and get us all worked up, and then in the last paragraph you'll stumble on the fact that some well-known Tottenville man was cured of all his ailments by Brown's Blood Bitters." "Can you hold your tongue a minute ?" demanded Greg ironically.
"Not when I see you headed that way," retorted Reade.

"I've been fooled by the same style of exciting item, and I know how cheap it makes a fellow feel when he comes to the name of the Bitters, the Pills or the Sarsaparilla.

Holmesy, I want to save your face for you with this crowd." "Will you keep quiet, for a moment, and let the other fellows hear, even if you have to take a walk in order to save your own ears ?" demanded Greg, with sarcasm.